


for infinity|shyan

by moonenby



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angel Ryan Bergara, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst, Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural, Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime, Demon Shane Madej, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Slow Burn, also maybe some smut???, also the end chapter will be inspired by the song venus by sleeping at last, and good omens references, damnn shane gets hurt, definitely some sexual moments, it's reallllllllly angsty, maybe some blood and violence, shane will drink away his sorrow at some point, there's also sherlock references, there's going to be heavy drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24965716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonenby/pseuds/moonenby
Summary: A love like theirs is forbidden.A love between an angel and a demon.An angel and a demon called Ryan and Shane.When Shane is exiled to planet Earth, he has to live many lives. In each life, he meets Ryan once more but is forced to watch him die, every single time. And he has no control whether he lives.His superiors laugh at him. Why have him die when he could be tortured until the very end?
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. Burning the Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Ah! This is my first fanfiction that I'm uploading on this website! I started writing this work on Wattpad however soon after publication, I unpublished it. Please to not try and share this with Ryan and Shane. This is only for entertainment purposes only and not to damage Ryan and Shane's relationship/s with each other and with their s/o. I don't actually ship Shyan; I just came up with a cool AU concept, and being a sucker for romances, decided to begin writing this. Anyways, enjoy the story :)

Shane

''Love is patient, love is kind.'' 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

I was an angel once.

All demons were.

But I was flawed. I wasn't "pure". I wasn't "virtue". I was misled, and lonely and...confused. In short, I was fucking messed up. You wouldn't imagine angels to be imperfect. But Heaven at the time were filled with imperfections. Yet again, we became demons and no one really expects anything from us. Except from causing havoc and spreading chaos.

Look, I didn't mean to fall. I never meant for everything to go south but it just did. And I had no control. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that I'll never have control.

Even in Hell, I didn't belong. They said I was too kind at heart; I was too soft. In Heaven, they said I was too chaotic; I was too mischievous. It's strange because in the land of outsiders, I was the misfit.

No one could trust me. Giving me the least control, I always had last pick. Besides, if I had power, I wouldn't know what to do with it. I couldn't bring myself to be the blood-thirsty, vindictive supernatural I was asked to be. And I was far too damaged to be the amiable, benevolent saint.

I was the Tempter of Mortals; the easiest job there was for demons. I may have encouraged the rich to murder one another. I may have convinced Adam and Eve to eat the apple. (Or maybe that was another guy? Crowley? I don't know, it's hard to keep track when you've been alive for thousands of years.)

I've never believed in fate, for there's always a logical reason behind everything; facts and figures were more my cup of tea. Being a creature who was created at the beginning at time and helped produce the world, I knew practically everything there is to know. However for a spilt second everything I knew was eradicated, and I was left vulnerable, knowledgeless. It was like a math equation which you think you know but it appears that you left out a factor. It was the first time I caught a glimpse of the universe in a human's eyes.

The thing is, I met someone. Someone who made so much sense that everything else in the world seemed so wrong. He was smart, charming, a huge dork and... I was in love with him. The best thing was, he was in love with me too.

When I say his name, I say it in a hazy trance. It rolls of my tongue, tasting sweet like honey. I feel as if I'm under his spell. Bewitched with his beauty, enchanted with his flaws, I simply can't get enough.

When we held hands, they fitted together as if we were made for each other. We would laugh as I lifted up our intertwined fingers. My hands would engulf his, comforting him, protecting him. And oh, when he laughed, I could feel myself hold my breath. His teeth would shine, his eyes would sparkle, his dimples would show. The whole world would slow down.

His name is Ryan and he couldn't be more perfect.

Except he was an angel.

And I didn't care. At first, at least.

We were meant to be swore enemies. He was meant to interfere with my chaotic actions. I was meant to disrupt his good-doing. But following the rules were draining. We saw our chance to rewrite the script so we did. Instead, we watched the humans, watching them under their own influence. Because we knew what it felt like to be controlled and to be forced into an unrealistic mould.

I remember vividly, the thing we loved the most was watching the starry nights. I would point at the flaming dots and be able to name each and every one. Creating the stars was the only (successful) thing I achieved in Heaven. It was the only thing which happened to me that didn't go wrong.

As time went by, we became more reckless. Kissing in daylight, holding hands for hours on end. These were things Ryan insisted we do. And I couldn't say no to that glorious smile. But every single time, we were on the borderline of blowing our cover. I dreaded to think about Heaven's and Hell's consequences. The thoughts would plague me with each breath I took. They would haunt me in my nightmares. I wouldn't survive if something happened to Ryan. I would take every bullet, every knife, every moment of hurt, if it meant my boyfriend could stay safe. And being the fool I was, I promised. I promised I would keep him safe.

If I could, I would go back in time to the very moment we met and destroy it. Without hesitation. Because even though he is the reason I live, I am the reason his life was in peril. I am the reason he would get hurt. I wouldn't even bat an eye. I would leave him alone, safe and away from my arms.

But, we were naive. We thought we could make it. But there was a lesson I didn't know back then. Every promise is bound to be broken, no matter what. It's waiting to happen at some point. That's why I didn't see that my promise to Ryan was going to be broken.

The curtain revealed what was once concealed. Our walls were broken down. We were too reckless. Too stupid. It was all my fault. They knew.

It was broad daylight, in a human village. But our superiors just didn't give a damn. I recall seeing Ryan struggling as two demons gripped at his wrists. He cried out, desperate. He cried out for help. He cried out my name. I shouted back. Then I was out cold.

I regained my consciousness but opened my eyes to darkness. My body ached as it occurred to me there were bruises adorned on my skin. My forehead throbbed and I felt whatever was beneath me sway. The object preventing me to see was lifted.

Everything shone too brightly, the I was in room spinning. My vision was blurred and even when I regained my usual sight, I couldn't identify where I was. The walls were furnished in pristine white and the ceiling seemed to be miles away. The only place I knew which had rooms like these were Heaven. However, it wasn't a place that rung any bells. It was then I was the fragment of familiarity standing in the middle.

''Ryan,'' I croaked weakly. My Ryan. I lurched forwarded before yelping. I turned around to see my body bonded by rope. My skin began to burn, the more as I resisted when I realised something was off. Ryan...he wasn't Ryan. Well, he was but it was almost as if he was replaced by a robotic clone. He stood there, like a doll, with glassy eyes. A faint smile was painted unnatural on his face.

"What have I done?" I whispered, biting my lip.

''He's under an enchantment. Your.. Ryan is still living. Just barely however, ''sneered a voice behind me, tortuously familiar. ''And, oh darling, I wouldn't recommend struggling, if I were you. It's going to hurt. I dipped the rope in some holy water. Just. For. You,'' Echoing footsteps filled the room as a figure stepped in front of me. ''Welcome back Shane. You missed us?'' It was Michael.

Following behind we faces I knew too well: Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel. They were the mighty four. Always top, never less. I always felt like a failure around them, self conscious and awkward. Their voices were the voices of my inner demons, telling me I am never enough. And here they were to say it, in person.

''What are you going to do to him,'' I spat, ''Don't you dare touch a single hair on him or I swear I-''

''You will what, little shit?,'' Michael mocked, in his sickening condescending tone. Kicking me in the stomach, I shrunk back , rendered speechless.

The four surrounded me like hawks, ready to attack, with beady eyes. Never in my life had I felt more pathetic. ''Please,'' I begged, ''Do not hurt him. Just punish me." I paused to recollect my thoughts. "It's all my fault."

Michael smirked. ''That's so sweet, but no.'' Kicking me once more, the angels walked off to Ryan. I choked back sobs rather unsuccessfully. "How selfish I was to love someone and let them be hurt," I thought.

''The demons are here,'' announced Gabriel stoicly and almost immediately walked in Dagon and Hecate. I despised their guts already but to see them waltz in grinning drove me to wanting to rip their guts out. They were the Dukes of Hell. Almighty bitches; they were made of solid Teflon. The two made sure I suffered. Here they were ready to do it all over again.

''Prepare the fire, demons,'' ordered Michael as he began to walk over to me. He crouched down and lifted my chin with his hand, with his horrid smirk. I flinched at his touch, inhaling sharply. ''Tsk, tsk, you had one job. Yet you failed miserably. Just like your boyfriend over there. Such a pathetic piece of shit. Like you. No wonder you both fell in love. You match each other oh so perfectly."

In the distance, I could see a flickering fire, dancing wildly in the open space. It glowed it's sinister blood-red hue, illuminating the demons surrounding it. The sight of it always sent shivers down my spine but now seeing it then left me paralysed. A million worries bombarded my head, swimming around and drowning any morsel of reason I had left. My mind was clouded completely.

''You see what we have there? You recognise it, don't you? Of course you do, what a stupid question for me to ask. Flames from Hell,'' Michael spat sharply. " No angel could survive that fire. It would be agonising for an angel to merely come in contact with the flames. Now, how do you think it would feel if an angel was burned to the stake with it?'' He whispered the last sentence, right into my ear, the disgusting words dripping from his mouth.

Slow to thinking, the realisation then hit. I gasped, hopelessly, ''No.''

''Oh yes,'' Michael grinned. He strode to the other side of the room as I withered hopelessly. I tugged and I tugged at the ropes but no damage was done. Each move I made led to a burning pain stabbed at me. But I didn't care.

I looked into Ryan's lifeless eyes as I felt tears flood mine. He looked almost...at peace. I shook my head. I made a promise to protect my Ryan. And intended to keep the promise.

"No.'' I started out quiet. ''No, No, NO!''

I shrieked at the top of my lungs, ignoring the burning feeling. It was the same feeling of when a demon swallows holy water: the pain played a game of illusion that it was an omnipotent being.

''Can someone please shut the demon up?" snapped Michael, gesturing a lazy hand my way. Bowing silently, Gabriel approached me before shoving a cloth deep into my mouth. "All will be better this way, my friend, for the imperfections shall be filtered out," he whispered, almost as if he himself was under a trance.

Tears brimmed my eyes as the flames travelled closer and closer to Ryan. I squeezed my eyes shut, as a tidel wave of memories came crashing down. Flashes of Ryan's smile. Flashes of Ryan's laughter. Flashes of Ryan being, well Ryan. They played in slow motion, the images hazy and distant, like an old film. They were so close, as if I could reach out and grab them, but just out of my reach. At that moment, I thought I would never have another moment like that again. I took them for granted, never savouring, never appreciating them. What a fool I was. All because I failed to take care of my Ryan.

But the thing is at that moment Ryan wasn't mine. I wasn't Ryan's. We belonged to Heaven and Hell. Because we were the defects of the system and nothing more.

The flame was one jolt away from touching the stake. I tried to close my eyes but couldn't. A hand touched my shoulder as someone murmured into my ear, "You can't close your eyes. Don't look away from this achievement." I knew almost instantly what had happened. A hypnotic spell. I wasn't allowed to look away.

For a second everything slowed down. I stared into Ryan's pleading eyes. "I love you," he mouthed. There was a pained smile. It last thing I saw of him before he was up in flames.

I had let out a muffled cry of agony, sobbing harshly as if I would never stop.

He was gone.

Figures began to circle me, but it wasn't clear who was who. I was blinded from the pain and couldn't care less.

"Do your worst, bastards. Let me die,'' I croaked out weakly.

A familiar hand caressed my face and a sickly sweet voice laughed. "We're not going to do that! Of course not. We have something much, much more planned for you! Because why kill you, when you can be tortured until the very end!''

''W-what do you mean?" My voice faltered, wavering hesitantly.

Michael scoffed. "You don't belong anywhere. Heaven or Hell. Except from Earth I suppose. Earth is full of imperfections so you'll fit right in. You'll have to live many, many lives. And in each, you'll find your Ryan again."

I gasped, causing for the other ethereal being to smirk.

"In some lives, he will fall in love with you. In some lives, he will not. But no matter what happens, one thing is certain. You will have to watch him die, and you can't do anything about."

"No, you ca-" I began to protest but before I fully processed what happened, I was plunging.

Down and down and down.

My wings began to combust. My legs couldn't move. My hand stretched out to the sky.

All because I had fallen in love.

Now, love isn't patient and kind. Love is messy and horrible.


	2. 1895, England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was in another life and I immediately knew who I was. This time I was Shane Adler, a retired war doctor in need of a companion and comfortable lodgings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is heavily inspired by the whole Sherlock Holmes franchise. It's also set in London because it's a place I actually know, being British (well British born with Filipino blood). Also, I don't know if the drinking in here will be accurate; you see I am a minor after all. Oh and it will get a bit sexual! (But no smut, ya nasties, not really, you guys aren't nasty.) This will too be slightly inaccurate as I have not had my first kiss yet!)  
> Anyways just enjoy the chapter<3

"Love does not keep a record of wrongs." 1 Corinthians 13.5

Shane

I awoke with a jolt, sitting up from my narrow bed. I rubbed my sore neck while I gazed out the window. The sight of horses trotting daintily down the cobblestoned street and boys in tattered, brown clothing selling newspapers welcomed by weary eyes.

I was in another life and I immediately knew who I was. This time I was Shane Adler, a retired war doctor in need of a companion and comfortable lodgings.

"So excited to see how this one turns out," I muttered unenthusiastically, climbing out of the hotel sheets.

After I had readied myself and paid for my stay, I brandished my umbrella at the sight of the typical, gloomy skies and the rumble of lightning.

I knew it was going to be a long day.

***

I didn't know what I was doing, other than aimlessly wondering around the streets of London. The icy-cold wind danced throughout the air as the sun cowered away into the clouds. I wrapped my frayed coat around my body, practically hugging myself, in attempt to find heat. With each step I took, thousands of memories flooded my head, telling the story of my life. I rubbed my callous hands on my forehead; you see gaining all the information about the character who you are playing almost simultaneously can cause one to have a headache. "All the world's a stage," I mumbled, my tone as bitter as the weather. I looked ahead and noticed two children frolicking down the pavement, having the littlest care in the world. Two adults, who appeared to be their parents, were looking down fondly. I grimaced; the sight of the family made me feel almost...jealous. It reminded me of my loneliness and how I lost the love of my life. In this life, I was a discharged military doctor who served in Afghanistan. My parents were long gone and I was an only child. I had no friends nor family members to turn to. That's why I found myself in a dilapidated hotel. I glanced down at my pouch of shillings, realising it was far lighter than it was the other day. Arriving a few months ago from the war, the memories of the battlefield would leave me paralysed on a chair, days on end. For the most part, it felt like I was a creature, raised from the dead, barely moving, barely living. Because of this, the thought of finding a new job never crossed my mind; surviving the day would be my main (and only) priority. But things were going to change. So I wasn't just a retired war doctor in need of a companion and comfortable lodgings. I was a retired war doctor in need of a companion, comfortable lodgings AND a job.

***

"Mr Adler, you do realise you are extremely over-qualified for this post?" The doctor I was speaking to was in his early-fifties with thinning hair. He chuckled lightly to himself before putting down my resume on the table. "Are you sure you want to take up this post?"

"I'm sure," I smiled, "The clinic needs the doctors, I need the money. I just need something to get me by. It doesn't matter whether if it's not a lot."

"Alright, Mr Adler," he said, standing up, with me following suit. He shook my hand, euphoric. "You'll be working Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. I'll see you tomorrow then, doctor."

"I'll see you then."

I walked out of the doors, with a small smile on my face however my kind of good mood was spoiled after a man walked right into me.  
"Oh, I'm very sorry sir," apologised the man. He then paused and smiled, a grin stretched from ear to ear. "Shane Adler!" he exclaimed.

I blinked twice, when it occurred to me who it was; my childhood best friend. "Shawn Wellings?"

"I can't believe it's you! Look at you all tanned. I assume your time in Afghanistan is over?"

"Yes, yes it is. I've been discharged after I was shot in the shoulder."

Shawn was my next-door neighbour since we were tots and we had attend school together. I hadn't seen him in five years, which was ever since I left the country. I knew he helped tend to my sickly parents and I had to be grateful for that.

"So what brings you to these parts? You're not turning to a life of crime, are you?" he joked. You see, we were in Brixton, such a wonderful place. A wonderful place to be pickpocketed, harassed and shanked. You don't like the watch on your wrist? That's fine! Walked through the streets of Brixton and you'll never see it again. Good thing I have nothing left of my life to lose, really.

"No," I chuckled, "I'm going to be working in the clinic. What about you?"

"I work in the clinic too! But aren't you over-qualified?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, embarrassed. "That's exactly what the doctor I spoke to said."

"But you can do better than that! There's other clinics in London who are offering you better pay. Mind you, but I've been considering about leaving the place and looking for a new job!"

"I'm just looking for a job that gets me by. But to frank, I am also in need for a companion and comfortable lodgings."

"You know what, you are the second man to have used that exact phrase to me today."

My eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes, his name is Ryan Sato. A Japanese bloke. Came here to study and graduated recently. Jolly good fello-"

"Ryan, you say?"

"Yes, keep up mate. I met him at work because he had to examine a body for evidence; he's a detective. Anyways, his address is 221a Bakery Road. He told me if there was anyone looking to share the apartment, I should give them his details. The two of you would seem like you would get along. You're both around the same age. Now, I've got to head off but it was nice seeing you again."

"Nice seeing you too," but my voice drifted off as my mind preoccupied.

Ryan.

"221a Bakery Road, eh," I whispered to myself.

***  
After hauling a cab, I stood there staring at the towering buildings of Bakery Road. I rung the doorbell, and held my breath anxiously. A million thoughts raced in my head.

"Will it be my Ryan?"

"If so, will he like men too?"

"Homosexuality is illegal here. What could possibly happen?"

"Hello," spoke a familiar, husky voice. 

I held back a smile. It was Ryan. My Ryan. 

Except he didn't know it. 

His rich, earth-brown eyes peered down at me in curiosity.

My cheeks went red as cleared my throat.. "Oh, um, I'm Shane Adler. Shawn Wellings told me you were in need of a companion and comfortable lodgings. I am too."

Brushing the soft, ebony hair out of his eyes, Ryan smiled at me, his eyes catching the light. They almost twinkled. "You seem like a lovely man. Come on in, please. I've already found a comfortable place as you can see," Ryan stated, gesturing to the flat, as we stepped inside. The interior was already furnished, with bookshelves and cosy armchairs. I eyed a violin on the other side of the room, and couldn't help but smile. Before everything fell apart, Ryan would play the harp. It was nice to know he was still a music man. 

"It's only the matter of paying. Seeing you'll be living here with me, we can spilt the rent accordingly."

"Of course, of course. Oh wait, my belongings are back in the hotel I was staying in."

"That's fine. We can pick them up later. But first," Ryan walked to the other side of the room. Despite I am tall, he was out of my eye line. He reappeared, grinning, and brandished an unopened bottle of red wine. "To celebrate."

I bit my lip and hesitated. I didn't want Ryan to get to know me while we were drunk. Getting wasted wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Or perhaps that's exactly what I needed.

"Sure"

***  
"A doctor, huh," hiccupped Ryan. His waistcoat was felt lying on a nearby chair and his bowtie was sloppily done. Somehow, his shirt was slightly unbuttoned too. Seeing him leaning on the wall made me swallow nervously. I needed to distract myself from the attraction. And the amount of alcohol I consumed was not helping. He walked over a discarded wine bottle that was left lying on the carpet as he reached for a new bottle.

My head throbbed and the room spun, but in an peculiarly fun matter. I was grateful I was in a chair otherwise I would've collapsed there and then. "Yeah, but it wasn't my first choice in employment," I said with slurred speech.

"Hm." Ryan was now pouring himself another glass of wine.

"I've always been fond of the arts. Literature, music."

"Huh, you may have noticed my violin in the room. Now, literature that's an interesting one. Perhaps, you have a favourite author?"

I made an attempt to stand up and staggered to Ryan. I stumble last minute but felt myself be caught. I was in his arms. There was something in the way he looked at me that made my stomach flutter. I stood up straight but my whole body tensed when realising I was probably only a foot away from him.  
I stuttered before answering his question. "Yes, Oscar Wilde." He wasn't my favourite author; in fact Mary Shelley claimed the spot. However, bringing up Wilde could lead to a conversation to his recent imprisonment which could then lead to me finding out Ryan's views on homosexuality. Maybe I could find out if he was homosexual.

"Ah, I enjoy his works too, " he lightly smiled, "Have you heard about his imprisonment?"

My chest grew tight. The butterflies within fluttered more aggressively. "Yes, yes I have." I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible but I wasn't sure if I was successful. The man was a detective for goodness sake, meaning he could see right through me. But the wine appeared to weaken his deductive mind.

"I don't think that's fair," he sighed, waving around his wine glass, "People should love whoever they love. It doesn't matter whether a man loves a woman or another man."

My cheeks began to warm up again. "Y-yeah. I agree with you."  
His eyes softened. I forgot how easily you could find yourself drowning in his eyes. They were pools of honey, sweet, but also would leave me in a sticky mess. "You do?" He whispered those words, barely loud enough for me to hear. For the last three hours I spent with him, I only saw the confidence and the charm. But to be fair, three hours isn't enough to discover a person. Seeing him vulnerable in front of me so early on was almost unexpected. It reminded me of how precious he really was.

"Of course," I whispered back.

"Do, do you not feel uncomfortable that I'm darker than you," referring to his skin. I almost forgot how being a person of colour in England wasn't a norm. I took a step forward and he didn't protest. I could feel his breath on my skin: warm and smelling like the wine. He reached for my hand and I accepted it, intertwining our fingers. I remembered how touch-starved I was. The past few lives I lived, Ryan didn't love me, the way I did. Like a brother? Yes. Like a friend? Yes. But never as a lover. My body was an empty canvas, lonely and cold, longing for colour and love.

Now was my chance. It was now or never. I reached down, kissing him gently. Lips surprisingly soft, he kissed back, chastely. I smiled against the kiss, pushing him back into the wall, making him moan softly. Wrapping his arms around my neck, the kiss deepened. He pulled back however, making me wonder if this was all a mistake.

"I would cross every line, break every rule for you," Ryan breathed.

I smiled sadly as I caressed his cheek.

"What's wrong, Shane?"

I laughed but anyone could see it was forced. "I wish for you not to cross every line or break every rule for me. You barely know me."

"But," he began to protest.

"This is illegal. I love you but here it's wrong. I wish we could be safe and we could run away but we can't."

"I understand."

"But you don't," I sighed. He didn't know what I was doing here on Earth. He didn't know that I wasn't really human, "I want to love you but I don't know how. Without hurting you."

"And that's fine," he smiled, "I don't care if I get hurt loving you. Nobody needs to know. Nobody has to see past the curtains."

"You really are the most precious person who lived." I bit my lip, as a tear rolled down my cheek. I didn't want to know how I was going to lose him this time. Ryan caught the tear with his thumb and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I laughed seeing him tiptoe. Wrapping his arms around my neck, we began to sway slowly. The moonlight peered through the curtains, illuminating Ryan. He looked like an angel. He was an angel. Ryan was right. Nobody needed to know. But they were going to.

***

Ryan and I walked through the streets, hand in hand. We were thankful that society looked past two men hold hands, and dismissed them as close friends.

Yeah, friends who kissed and held each other intimately when everyone was looking the other way.

The sky was painted in a soft blue hue, stretching across the endless canvas. The birds chirped gleefully, sharing their hymns of hope into the world. I then looked down at Ryan. Ryan, and his lustrous eyes. Ryan, and his soft cocoa skin. Ryan, and his magnificent, radiant smile. We walked in silence, but we could feel every thought the other had to give. Everything was in place. It was a perfect day.

It was when I eyed an ominous raven perched upon a treetop, it's staring piercing into my soul, I began to feel unsettled. But I tried to ignore it. I tried to bury it deep down in my pocket. But I should've known it was a sign. The more you know.

The sky lost it's happiness, and it's tears came falling down, heavy and plentiful. Cowering into a darkened alleyway, Ryan grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him.

"What was that about," I laughed, shaking the rain off myself.

Ryan shrugged and laughed back. "So I could do this." Grabbing me by the neck this time, he pulled me into a quick peck on the lips.

We gazed longingly at each other, and we about to walk away. But we weren't quick enough.

"Did those two men kiss?" shouted a voice from the distance.

"Oi, I think they're about to run for it."

"Wait, is that Ryan? Ryan from university?"

"I think you're right Tom!"

"Let's get those sinners, lads."

Ryan kissed me as chastely as he did the first time but made it quick before letting. "Run," was all he said.

"No, I won't," I said, shaking my head. "I'm a war doctor for goodness sake."

"An injured one. Go, these men know me." This time he spoke more desperately.

"I won't let you." I tried to sound firm, asserting my dominance but I just couldn't.

"The first time we met, I told you that I don't care whether I get hurt loving you-"

"No," I protested.

"I meant every single word. You have a chance of escaping because they don't recognise you. Run you clever boy and remember me."

"No," I pleaded hoarsely. I could see the men come closer and closer.

"For me, Shane, for me," he whispered, tears falling down from his eyes. However I couldn't tell whether it was coming the rain's sorrow or Ryan's sorrow.

And being the coward, I am, I ran.

I ran.

I ran.

I ran.

Because I am weak.

I returned to our flat and waited, shaking with trepidation. The night had come but Ryan didn't. I couldn't sleep that night. The bed felt empty without him by side. The sun shone through the bedroom windows, reminding me that another day had come but Ryan was nowhere to be seen. 

I lost all hope. It was then I heard my doorbell ring. My eyes widened, a cautiously hopefully smile tugging at my lips, as I bolted down the staircase. I was ready to throw my arms around him. But when I opened the door, he wasn't there. All that was there was the newspaper and the milk bottles. Sighing deeply, I picked up the daily paper. The headline read:

"RYAN SATO, A PRACTICER OF HOMOSEXUALITY, BEATEN TO DEATH"

The newspaper fell on the floor, with a light thud. I returned to our room and collapsed in the bed sheets. How I found myself there, is a question I can't answer. 

I almost couldn't believe it. But I could.

Laying there, I could smell Ryan's cologne lingering weakly. And that's when I broke. I cried and I cried and I cried.

Love does keep a record of wrong doing. If it didn't, why do I continue to get hurt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking back to some of the old fanfiction I wrote from when I was ten to now and if there's one thing I've learnt I AM ONLY GOOD AT WRITING ANGST I AM SO SORRY. So um, each chapter will be like this yeet, well except from the last two. The next chapter will be set in World War Two, so you can already see how that's going to end up. This story will probably have six chapters all together and I may not be updating very frequently because I'm revising for my end of year exams yay. I haven't proof-read this and if you found any of my references, then you're super cool :) if not you're still cool in my books.

**Author's Note:**

> How was this? Was is bad? Was is good? Just to throw it out there, I am (somewhat) catholic and do not actually believe angels would be the way I've portrayed them! I just had to paint them as the villains because we needed villains in this story! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it and take care <3


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